Shattered Glass
by Cascading Rainbows
Summary: A collection of one-hundred drabbles. /Latest—Drink: All stars fade away at some point.
1. New: The Art of Letting Go

_**Title**__: New: The Art of Letting Go_

_**Summary:**__Watching Mum walk away was one of the most painful moments that Natalie has experienced in her life._

_**Characters/Pairing**__: Natalie, Ian. No pairing . . . o.O_

_**Warning/Spoilers**__: Spoilers for "The Black Book of Buried Secrets." And…that's it. _

_**Dedication: **__To all my Madrigals buddies. You know who you are. :D_

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><p><strong>Prompt One: New<strong>

**The Art of Letting Go**

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><p>Watching Mum walk away was one of the most painful moments Natalie had experienced in her life.<p>

With one tan hand interlocked with Ian's and the other clenched into a fist, she watched the black car with Isabel inside speed away, a horde of reporters chasing frantically after her.

"There's no need to watch that," Ian muttered, yanking Natalie's hand, forcing her into walking in the opposite direction. "It's over."

"I know," Natalie mumbled, casting one desperate glance over her shoulder, but neither the car nor the reporters were to be found. "But I feel so lost without her."

Ian pulled out his cell phone from his pocket, but let out a dejected breath as he slipped it back in. "I forgot. We don't have a chauffeur anymore," he stated grimly.

"You didn't hire one?" When Ian remained silent, Natalie pulled her hand away from his. "Ian!"

"It was a mistake, I'm sorry—"

"It's more than just that— we can't do anything now that Mum's gone! Now we don't have our chauffeur, and soon we might lose everything! What will happen now, Ian? Mum's in jail, and we're alone, really alone, and we have to find a legal guardian, and I'm really scared right now because everything is moving too fast and I don't know what to do and—"

Ian placed his hand on Natalie's shoulder. "I know. It's hard for me to accept that Mum's . . . gone, too. But we have to figure things out ourselves now." He watched as tears welled in her eyes and threatened to spill out. "We're on our own now."

"So are we going to take a taxi?" Ian nodded, and she stepped towards the edge of the sidewalk, waving her hand vigorously. Soon, a taxi slowed to a stop in front of them, and Ian and Natalie climbed into the back seat.

A middle-aged man turned toward them. "Where to?"

"The airport," Ian told him, and the driver rushed forward, jolting the siblings backward.

Natalie stared at Ian. "Is this how we'll have to live now?"

Ian grudgingly smiled. "Think of it as a . . . new beginning."

Natalie let out a single laugh. "A new beginning." She looked out the window, watching the scenery. Her nose caught a whiff of the taxi's disgusting scent, and she almost barfed, but smiled weakly. "I might get used to that."

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><p><em>Word Count: 400, exactly. Phew. :D The drabbles will be shorter later on.<em>

_Blegh. I hate that this has to be 400 words. It used to be 446, but I edited and this is the product._ _I hate that I had to take out some good lines, such as "all's been said and done" at the end of Ian's dialogue in the third paragraph, "she sniffled noisily" after Natalie asks if they're taking a taxi," and "It's a new beginning for us. Think of it like that" instead of "Think of it as…a new beginning." _

_And I had this whole emotional thing for Natalie! Ian would comfort her and such, and it was all chopped away because of the word limit!_

_Meh. Whatever._

_Thanks so much to __**Syberian Quest, aka Sy,**__ who betaed this and will be betaing the other 99 drabbles. And I think she'll use the 100 Prompts, too. :) Oh, and thanks __**Theia 47, aka Theia,**__ for letting me use your top author's note format. xD Well, you didn't let me, but I took it. :D_

_Oh, I forgot to say: These prompts are from the "100 Days, 100 Drabbles" challenge from The DG Forum. I found out about from my friend Willful Destruction's story. Basically, you're supposed to write 100 drabbles, 400 words or less, with specified prompts in 100 days. I'm doing that, except not in 100 day. :D This will be more of a long-term project. Also, it's for the Harry Potter fandom, but I'm going to use it for the 39 Clues fandom._

_Reviews are always appreciated. Praise is loved, constructive criticism is welcome, and flames are accepted, as always._

_Thanks for reading!_

_~Cascading Rainbows_


	2. Broken: Patching Up the Holes

_**Title: **Broken: Patching Up the Holes_

_**Summary: **She was sick, so sick of everyone picking on her, calling her a nerd, a loser, a loner. She had feelings, she could hear what everyone was saying behind her back, yet no one seemed to acknowledge them. It wasn't fair. Not at all._

_**Genre: **Friendship, Hurt/Comfort_

_**Rating: **K_

_**Characters/Pairing: **Amy Cahill, Evan Tolliver. Slight, slight, slight, slight Amy/Evan. And yes, the four slights are needed. It's not even enough to be considered as romance. Good friendship, at most. It's almost anti-Amy/Evan. I am not an Amy/Evan shipper, I repeat, not an Amy/Evan shipper. Evan in this drabble was originally going to be Ian, but I decided that it was too cliché. So there you have it._

_**Warning/Spoilers: **Not really a spoiler, but you'll be slightly confused if you haven't read Vespers Rising._

_**Dedication: **To **Sun Daughter, aka Summer**. Haha, you were my first friend in the 39 Clues fandom, and you were the one that told me about TNGF and everyone. You're absolutely awesome. :)_

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><p><strong>Prompt Two: Broken<strong>

**Patching Up the Holes**

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><p>Amy Cahill was not one to cry in public. But there she was, sitting on a park bench, tears welling up in her eyes.<p>

How dare they make fun of her? She hadn't done anything wrong to them, nothing at all, but they had tripped her in the hallway, in front of everyone. Her cheeks had burned, her knees had stung, and the crowd had chuckled in mirth.

The laughter was still ringing in her ears.

She was sick, so sick of everyone picking on her, calling her a nerd, a loser, a loner. She had feelings, she could hear what everyone was saying behind her back, yet no one seemed to acknowledge them.

It wasn't fair. Not at all.

"Hey. Are you all right?" The voice came from above, soft and sympathetic. Amy was almost afraid to look up, but she forced herself to.

Looking down on her was the one and only Evan Tolliver.

"Y-Yeah," she managed, quickly wiping her tears away with a swipe of her hand. "I'm fine."

It would have been quite convincing if he hadn't already seen her tears.

"No, seriously," he persisted, his brow creased in worry. "I saw you cry, Amy."

Amy set her jaw, ignoring the butterflies in her stomach. "Well, you might've s-seen me, but I'm okay now." Upon meeting his skeptical expression, she hastily added, "It was stupid. Long story."

"I have time."

Couldn't he realize that she wanted some time alone? "F-Fine. I'm sick and tired of everyone at school thinking I'm a nerd and have no life, and I'm especially sick of everyone that picks on me and trips me and does stupid things like that. Like what happened today. You saw it, too," she explained bitterly. "I went for a walk in the park and just kind of b-broke down and started crying. I just need some time to g-get over it. End of story."

"Not a very long story," he replied offhandedly. After seeing her expression, he added, "I'm sorry. That wasn't the best thing to say."

"It's okay," she muttered softly.

Silence. Then, "So, how are you feeling?"

"Mad. Hurt. Broken," she mumbled. "Alone."

Evan laughed a little as he eased down next to her onto the park bench. "Nothing that can't be fixed."

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><p>Thank you so much for reviewing my last chapter:<p>

~ music4evah :: purplephantasms :: rainingtearsofchocolate :: RageRunsStill~  
>~ therockinCookie :: Logical Fallacy :: Another Artist :: Syberian Quest~<p>

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><p><em>Word Count: 370! Yes! *Update: I checked again. 380? -_- Microsoft Word 2010 is so inconsistent.<em>

_It was decent-ish, yes? (And it's also my first multi-chapter for the fandom! :D) It was originally going to be about Dan breaking his arm, but then I couldn't find a way to make it work. :l So it turned into this light angsty drabble. (Light angst. Almost an oxymoron.) So I hope you caught the part when I subtly mentioned brokenness, not in the literal sense. Haha, these prompts are for the Harry Potter fandom, and it would be much easier there. A broken wand, duh. But that would be a cop-out, huh? xD_

_Anyway. _

_I am not an Amy/Evan shipper. Not at all. I am strictly Amian, and that is that. See the genre on the top author's note? Friendship and hurt/comfort. Friendship. Not romance in the slightest. Also, t__here's absolutely no information about Evan in __Vespers Rising__, so I just worked off of what was in there. It was obvious that he liked, not in a romantic way, Amy, and was friendly enough to discuss the English paper with her. I built on his personality, and added a bit of sarcasm, but kindness. Also, Amy likes him, so I subtly referred to that as well._

_Oh, and since Sy mentioned this, I thought I should talk about it in my author's note: she said that she thought that Amy wouldn't be this sensitive, but it was certainly plausible. Yes, Amy isn't this sensitive anymore, but I think sometimes bullying gets to even the strongest people, and I wanted to capture that moment for Amy in this drabble. And about the title . . . I hope you guys got it. D: Evan's going to "patch up" the metaphorical holes in Amy's heart . . . it's an expression. I hope that makes sense. :) _

_Praise is loved, constructive criticism is welcome, and flames are accepted. Ooh, and story alerting is a good thing to do. *solemn nod*_

_Thanks for reading!_

_~Cascading Rainbows_

_PS: My author's notes are as long as the drabbles. -_-_


	3. Hope: Watching, Waiting, Wishing

_**Title: **__Hope—Watching, Waiting, Wishing {What an original title. :P Sorry for its mundaneness.}_

_**Summary: **__Watching them, the sickening realization dawns upon her. She is the one that did this to them. It is her fault. And it breaks her heart._

_**Genre:**__ Angst, some Drama_

_**Rating: **__K+_

_**Characters/Pairing: **__. . . This would kind of spoil everything._

_**Warning/Spoilers: **__Unless you haven't finished book one, none._

_**Dedication: **__To Mona. *pumps fist* We finally finished it! {You know what I'm talking about. ;D Hopefully. o.O}_

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><p><strong>Prompt Three: Hope<strong>

**Watching, Waiting, Wishing**

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><p>She is the first to wake up.<p>

Dazed, she looks around. The room is empty, and a door at the right leads into another room, which she attempts to look out from her reclining position. Men are dashing around, and people on carts are being rushed from one room to the next. She glances down and discovers that she is wearing a gown and tubes are running through her body.

It takes a while for everything to click.

_The bomb._

"Hello? Anyone? Anyone?" she screams, and a young woman with a nametag reading _Kelly _rushes in. "Where are my brothers? I need to see them immediately."

Kelly looks unsure. "I understand how you are feeling right now, but you're in no state to walk around—"

"_Please?_"

She sighs resignedly. "There's nothing we can do, but since your brothers are at the other side of the room, I suppose I can show you them." Kelly walks over to the curtain on the left and pulls it to the side, revealing two boys.

After a few moments, she realizes that they are her brothers.

The one closest to her is Ned, she can instantly tell. He is hooked up to tubes and monitors and looks so fragile that she's afraid that he might fall apart if she touches him. She cranes her neck to see Ted in the same state. "W-Why are they like that? Why aren't they waking up?" she insists.

"There's . . . a chance that they won't wake up," Kelly responds softly. "They were hit with the worst —"

"You're lying!" she yells. "That can't be true! There's got to be a chance for them! There's got to be hope! Get them to wake up! Please?"

"I'm sorry," Kelly whispers. "They still have a chance, but they were hit full blast. . . I'll leave you alone, do you want me to close—"

"No, it's fine," she mumbles and doesn't watch as Kelly walks out the door.

Miserably, she looks at her brothers. She deserves this fate, not them. She was the one that had led them to the bomb, she was the one that did this.

"They still have a chance," Kelly had said. _There's a chance. They can wake up. They can live._

And watching her brothers lying lifelessly on their cots, Sinead Starling can do nothing but hope.

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><p><em>Word Count: 395<em>

_Frankly, this one was the hardest to chip away from. It used to be 56-something words, and it killed me to erase everything. It was really, really difficult, because now this is devoid of detail, but this challenge demands no detail, so. _

_For you people that don't get it, it's set in the hospital that the Starlings were hospitalized in after they were hit by the bomb. This is when Sinead wakes up. I thought it was pretty obvious, but, you know, just making sure._

_Thanks again to __**Syberian Quest, aka Sy the Awesome**__, who has put up with me for three drabbles. *confetti* I'm betting she'll hate me by Prompt Fifty, but who knows, really? xD You're epic, Sy._

_All kinds of reviews are welcome and loved, praise, flames, and constructive criticism. _

_Thanks for reading!_

_~Cascading Rainbows_


	4. Quills: Sibling Rivalries

**Title: **Quills {I'm not going to make titles anymore. :P And besides, I just found out that the chapter titles have to be the prompt names.} EDIT: Fine. I will. Sibling Rivalries. {And this is supposed to be for the Harry Potter fandom, which made this prompt a lot harder. -.-"}

**Summary: **Siblings were supposed to support each other. For her, that wasn't the case.

**Genre: **Family, Angst

**Rating: **K+

**Character(s), Pairing: **Jane Cahill, Katherine Cahill. No pairing.

**Warnings/Spoilers: **None.

**Dedication: **To **Snowstorm xD, aka Snowie**, whose birthday was several days before. Happy belated birthday, Snowie doll. *huggles*

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><p><strong>04. Quills<strong>

**Sibling Rivalries**

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><p>She was sitting beside the ocean, waves lapping at the shore and beckoning her. Mountains were visible to her left. It was beautiful.<p>

But it was no time to be enjoying the scenery.

Fervently working, she dipped her goose feather into the ink bottle and penned a paragraph. Two. Her eyes scanned over what she had written so far. _Perfect,_ she thought proudly, and was about to dip her quill back into the ink, when—

"What do you think you're doing?"

She looked up. It was Katherine, her older sister. She sighed. Of _course_ she had to interrupt her now, right when she was about to get into the climax. "What do you want, Katherine?"

"Nothing. I just want to know what you're doing." Katherine was fiddling with some contraption. She caught her staring and explained, "I took this apart and am trying to put it back together."

"I am writing a book," she replied. "It's about a girl who was born into royalty, but discovers that she does not belong and runs away."

Katherine snorted. "That's a horrid plot. It's unoriginal, first off—"

"Stop! It _is _original! You have not read it yet! I have put some twists in the plot!" she cried indignantly.

"I don't need to read it to know that it's unoriginal."

Her eyes burned with fury. "Well, you are taking apart and putting together a contraption! That's useless!"

Katherine laughed. "This will help me learn about engineering in the future. I am an inventor. Inventions will help people achieve tasks easier. Writing books? That will get you nowhere in life," she spat, and her younger sister flinched. "_Nowhere_."

"Please go," she sniffed. "I do not need to hear your harsh words any longer." Tears were streaming steadily down her face.

"Fine," Katherine huffed, turning to walk away. "But know this: this will never get you anywhere in life." And with that, she strode away, still tinkering with her object.

Angrily, she turned back to her parchment, her quill lying next to it.

_Writing will get you nowhere in life_, Katherine had said.

She grabbed her quill and stood up. Furiously, she threw it into the ocean, watching as it receded into the waters. She sat back down, a fresh stream of tears falling down.

Siblings were supposed to support each other.

Jane Cahill's never did.

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><p><em>Word Count: 392<em>

_So, bad news and good news: The bad news is that my mom confiscated my computer for a little less than a week, between half a week and a week, I think. The good news is that, in the meantime, I wrote drabbles for prompts 4, 5, 8, 9, 13, and 14. This means that you should expect steady updates. And by that, I mean updates every Saturday, if I'm consistent. :)_

_Thanks again to __**Sy**__, because I gave her all my drabbles after transferring them from paper to computer. She also got them back to me in less than a day. She'll be gone for a while, so she probably won't see this, but you're epical, Sy. *nod* And I think we're quadruplets or something. xD_

_Oh, and I used contractions, because Sy told me that they use contractions in the book anyway. xD So my word count went down by a lot._

_I'd also appreciate it very much if you would check out my Dan/Reagan multi-chapter, __**Love, Actually**__, and review. :) It would be appreciated. :D_

_Praise is loved, constructive criticism is welcome, and flames are accepted. _

_Thanks for reading!_

_~Cascading Rainbows_


	5. Doorway: Finally Free

**Title: **Doorway: Finally Free {This title just came to me before, so. ;P}

**Summary: {EDIT 8/2/2011} **She was too good for her husband, anyway.

**Genre: **Angst, Drama

**Rating: **T for implied abuse.

**Characters/Pairing: **This would spoil it.

**Warnings/Spoilers: **None.

**Dedication: **To **Jamie's Dream**. You reviewed, oh my goodness. And she watched Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2, which I'm watching next Wednesday. I bet that was epic. *high-fives* Anyway, Jamington is absolutely amazing. So. *glomps Jamie*

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><p><strong>05. Doorway<strong>

**Finally Free**

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><p>He looked so peaceful in the moonlight.<p>

Soft snores escaped from his lips, which formed a crooked smile. His brown hair brushed against hers, his rough, unshaven face scratching her cheek. He was always like that at night, dirty and seedy-looking. But, in the morning, he would shave and smooth his air and would seem like a kind, respectable man.

Lies.

She had pretended to sleep for four hours, instead watching the minutes go by on the clock. It was fifteen seconds away from three AM, and she was antsy with anticipation. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

It was time.

She slipped out of their bed, careful not to wake him. The mattress creaked, and he shifted his position. She froze. But he was still.

She walked to his dresser quietly and opened the third drawer, revealing his jeans. She dumped them on the floor and removes their belts, putting back each pair of pants as she did so. Finally, she slid the drawer back in and stood, several belts in her hand.

She padded toward the door, then took one last look at him. Would she miss him?

. . . Probably not.

She closed the door.

Her eyes had adjusted to the dark, so she was able to maneuver through the living room without difficulty. The rolling suitcases were set at the doorway, along with a duffel bag and purse. She reached to take them, but hesitated.

Yes, she never wanted to see him again. He had beat her, whipped her with the metal of his belts. Welts had formed on her back, bruises marring her skin. But it didn't give her a right to just leave. She wouldn't stoop that low.

She reached for a napkin and the table and grabbed the pen stuck in her pocket, handy for times of inspiration. She contemplated writing a long letter, but instead opted for:

_Don't look for me._ _I'm finally free._

Satisfied, she pinned her pen back on her pocket, leaving the napkin on her table. She slung her duffel and purse over each shoulder, luggage in hand. She opened the door, lingering at the doorway. She was going to her new apartment, a better place with no pain. "Goodbye," she whispered, closing the door behind her.

Cora Wizard was too good for her husband, anyway.

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><p><em>Word Count: 387<em>

_This is not Broderick. This is her former, abusive husband, who would, like it says there, beat her and whip her with his belts. She stole his belts so that he would not inflict more pain on others any more. I know, he can buy more belts, duh, but it's kind of symbolic in a way. I also attribute her pain here to the reason she is so bitter and Lucian-like in the series._

_*must go* So. Please review! Praise is loved, constructive criticism is appreciated, and flames are accepted._

_Thanks for reading!_

_~Cascading Rainbows_


	6. Breathless: A Night to Remember

**Title:**Breathless: A Night to Remember

**Summary:** And for the first time, she feels like a princess.

**Genre:**Friendship, Romance

**Rating:**K

**Characters/Pairing:**Madison/OC.

**Warnings/Spoilers:**Sickening fluff. Blargh.

**Dedication:**To **daisy showers**, my wonderful cyber!daughter. :) You're amazing, Drew, don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

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><p><strong>06. Breathless<strong>

**A Night to Remember**

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><p>The night is unusually cold.<p>

She hugs her calves closer to her chest and rubs her bare legs with her hands. Maybe it's just because she hasn't worn a dress in years. She's never wanted to; she was the girl that, when the others played with Barbies and doll houses, insisted on finding a baseball bat and glove and playing with the boys.

_It was a stupid idea coming here_, she muses bitterly. _Who would want to dance with me at prom? I'm not smart. I'm not nice. I'm not even pretty._

She lets out a sigh. _I should probably get going. There's no way I'm going back in there—_

"Hey."

She turns to see Peter Van Cleese, a giraffe-tall sophomore who's in her trigonometry class. "I noticed you coming out here." He clears his throat. "I was planning on coming out, too."

She raises an eyebrow; he's never started a conversation with her before. "I thought you had a date."

"Jessica bailed on me." He rolls his eyes. "Apparently she found some varsity rugby stud that was interested in her, and obviously he's a better choice."

"I thought you played rugby, too."

"Yeah, but not _varsity_." Peter lets out a single laugh and sits down next to her. "Life is cruel."

"It sucks," she agrees. After a moment of silence, she adds, "You must feel really bad right now. What she did sucked. Not to mention mean."

"That didn't stop her from doing it." He snorts. "Where's your date?"

"Don't have one," she mutters. "My friends made me come. They said they'd stay with me, but found some guys going stag, paired up with them, and ditched me."

"Sorry."

There's a long silence. Then it dawns on her. "Peter."

"What?"

"Let's dance."

-o-

Once they hit the dance floor, it becomes obvious to her that Peter cannot in any way dance. He tries the Running Man, the Sprinkler, and the Lawnmower, all of which makes her turn red in a fit of giggles. Eventually, he settles for tapping his foot.

When a slow song comes on, there's a whole argument about where Peter should place his hands, and they stop dancing every five seconds when she steps on Peter's feet.

She loves every moment.

And for the first time, Madison Holt feels like a princess.

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><p><em>Word Count: 385<em>

_Ah, sorry for not updating in such a long time. I've been so so so so busy. I'm working hard on the first chapter of __Forgotten__, which is underway. __Love, Actually__ is unfortunately being neglected, so it's on hiatus for now._

_Also, I have a oneshot coming underway. It's Natalie-centric and very dark and emotional, so keep a look out for that._

_Thanks to Sy and Mona again for looking this over. Reviews are always appreciated, because that means that people actually read the stuff I put out and care enough to tell me about how it was. (: So please review! I love any constructive criticism and praise, and flames will be accepted, because, hey, it tells me that I need a lot of improvement._

_Thanks for reading!_

_~Cascading Rainbows_


	7. Pain: Sticks and Stones

**Title: **Pain: Sticks and Stones

**Summary: **But words will never hurt me.

**Genre: **Angst

**Rating: **K+

**Character(s), Pairing: **William McIntyre

**Warnings/Spoilers: **None.

**Dedication: **To **MagicIsEverywhere**, mah awesome daughter. Yeah, she's pretty awesome. And cool. Did I mention awesome? If I didn't, then…she's awesome. ;D

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><p><strong>07. Pain<br>Sticks and Stones**

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><p>"Hey, you!"<p>

William's head spun around to see Charlie Whitaker, the fourth-grade class bully, who was advancing towards him with his friends. William looked down, his fingers tightening around his Superman lunchbox. "What do you want?"

"Your lunchbox," Charlie spat, pointing at it like it was a dead rat. "You're such a baby. Who still carries around Superman lunchboxes?"

William fingered its handle. The sunlight glinted off of the tin case. "My mom bought it for me," William muttered, averting his gaze.

"Oh, your _mommy _bought it for you, huh?" Charlie snickered, his cronies following suit. He took a step closer, and William shrunk. Charlie was a head taller than him. "Does that make you feel _special_? Because your _mommy _bought it for you?"

"Stop it," William replied under his breath, taking a step away. He was blocked by one of Charlie's friends.

In one swift motion, Charlie took a step forward and snatched his lunchbox, holding it high over his head. His friends sniggered. "Hey, guys!" Charlie yelled, and his group began to throw his lunchbox back and forth.

"_Stop!_" William shouted, trying to jump for his lunchbox.

Charlie laughed. "Aw, Will, can't you take a joke?" He passed the lunchbox around some more.

Tears began to well in William's eyes. "Give it _back_."

Finally, one of Charlie's friends passed the lunchbox back to him. "You really want it?" Charlie asked. William nodded. Charlie swung the lunchbox handle around, and then he finally chucked it. Superman went flying towards the other end of the blacktop. "Go get it William! Fetch!"

His tears began to flow freely now; Charlie only laughed. "What a crybaby," he retorted. William felt paralyzed.

Charlie narrowed his eyes. "I said _fetch_," he shouted, and he pushed William to the floor.

The gravel dug into his arms, and the rocks skinned his knees and made them bleed. Pebbles clung to his skin. He could hear a few kids gathering around him and laughing.

He had never felt so much pain in his life.

-o-

After school, William clambered into the back seat of his mother's car, buckling in his seatbelt. He dropped the battered lunchbox onto the ground of the car, hoping his she wouldn't notice.

His mother revved the engine and started driving. "How was school today, honey?" she asked.

William hesitated before answering. ". . . fine."

His scrapes and bruises went unnoticed.

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><p><em>Word Count: 398<em>

_Yay-updates! :) Thanks to __**riptides **__and __**Syberian Quest**__ for betaing this for me! Without you guys, this would have turned out like a piece of poop._

_Anyway, good news: I already have prompts 8 and 9 done and betaed already by Sy; I think I already mentioned this in an earlier chapter. Anyway, that's good, so expect another update for this in a week or so. :D Better news: I'll work on __**Love, Actually**__ in the meantime! Writing fluffeh stuff will be fun. c; Also, I updated **Forgotten, **so I'd appreciate it if you'd check it out. _

_Thanks for reading!_

_~Cascading Rainbows_


	8. Test: Caught in the Act

**Title: **Test: Caught in the Act

**Summary: **Dan isn't a test person.

**Genre: **Humor

**Rating: **K

**Character(s), Pairing: **Dan Cahill.

**Warnings/Spoilers: **None.

**Dedication: **To **rainingtearsofchocolate**, aka **Mac**. [I made that fabulous nickname, by the way, and you'd only get it if you know his regular screen name. :P] Mac, you are awesome, but I haven't talked to you in so long! D: Hope you like this drabble.

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><p><strong>08: Test<br>Caught in the Act**

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><p>Was boredom a contagious disease? Dan thought so.<p>

A sort of gloomy presence pervaded the room as soon as Mrs. Travis passed out their history tests on Ancient Greece. He watched as the overachieving kids took their tests with stride.

Dan wasn't one of those kids.

He received his test and looked at it blankly. Lamely, he scrawled his name at the top, along with the date, and continued to stare at the piece of paper. His mind had gone completely blank. It was just his luck that the Clue Hunt didn't lead to somewhere in Greece, because he didn't know a thing about it.

For the first set of questions, you had to match Greek gods with their descriptions. He cursed inwardly for not paying attention in class, but his teacher spoke with a monotonous voice that couldn't help but put him to sleep.

Desolately, Dan drew a small thunder bolt next to the answer about lightning and a few stick figures engaging in a fight next to the description about the god of war. It was kind of calming. Surreptitiously, he glanced at the clock. Mrs. Travis had given them an hour, and there were fifty minutes left.

Dan proceeded to draw ninjas. Tiny shurikens dotted the paper. Next, he sketched a tank and drew a line of missiles hitting the word "agriculture" in one of the answers. Feeling slightly better about his predicament, Dan drew some grotesque zombies, one lobbing its own eyeballs at the word "hearth."

For a moment, he looked at his paper. How many questions out of twenty-five had he finished? One, if his name and date counted. Then there were twenty-six questions. One out of twenty-six. That was an F. Grumbling about his rational side, he drew a line from "Zeus" to the description about the lightning god. He felt accomplished and returned to his drawings.

Time flew by quickly. Soon, the paper was filled with doodles of zombies, ninjas, shurikens, tanks, ghosts, and the like. Grinning, Dan flipped over for a clean page, when—

"Mr. Cahill? What do you think you are doing?"

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><p><em>Word Count: 351<em>

_So this prompt was done a loooong time ago. Much thanks to **Syberian Quest **for looking over it! _

_Reviews are much appreciated, so...review! :D Thanks for reading!_

_~Cascading Rainbows_


	9. Drink: Washed Up

**Title: **Drink: Washed Up

**Summary: **All stars fade away at some point.

**Genre: **Angst

**Rating: **T

**Character(s), Pairing: **Jonah Wizard

**Warnings/Spoilers: **Alcohol use.

**Dedication:**To **time-turned**, who I've already dedicated it to, but we've had the best Auslly conversations and shtuff that I couldn't help it. And Drew, lowercase may not be grammatically correct, but it's FUN. :)

* * *

><p><strong>09. Drink<strong>

**Washed Up**

* * *

><p>"One more."<p>

Another beer keg slides down the table, still foaming at the top, and he stops it with his hand. "Thanks!" he yells, and he burps eloquently.

He chugs down half of it, slamming it down with more force than needed. "Ugh," he groans, and he wipes his wet mouth on the sleeve of his shirt.

"Excuse me?" a voice behind him asks.

He turns around to face a pretty, but unfamiliar, blonde girl around his age, if not younger. "Wassup?" he slurs.

"You aren't Jonah Wizard, are you?" She pauses. "If you are" —she holds out a small notebook and pen— "could you sign this? I absolutely loved your 2006 single "Gangsta Parade," but my favorite has to be "Wiz in Da House."

Oh. It's a fan. "Yeah. And sure," he responds dully, taking the pen and notebook. "Who do I make this out to?"

"Lily Carter," she quickly replies, watching him jot down a message. It reads: _Lily Carter, never give up on your dreams. They'll come true. –Jonah Wizard. _When he hands it back to her, she inquires, "Why did you stop singing and rapping? All the new artists suck."

Oh, just the fact that his mom disowned him, his Janus-led record label dropped him, and he couldn't find another label that would take him after his former label spread false accusations. "Lack of interest."

"Aw. That's too bad," Lily says dejectedly. "Thanks, though." She takes a picture with him, thanks him again, and leaves.

He downs the rest of his beer. "One more!" he shouts. The bartender grunts in response, and another glass comes his way.

Why did that girl even want an autograph? He's just a washed-up rapper from the last decade who'd had his fifteen minutes of fame. His glory days are over. That's why he spends hours at the bar, drinking beer after beer.

He finishes his tenth drink. He should stop. Drinking is bad for him, anyway. But it's also a therapy. It helps him forget.

He sets down his empty glass. "Excuse me? One more drink."

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><p><em>Word Count: 345<em>

_This one was also written last year-ish, betaed by Syberian Quest in advance. So if you notice a changed writing style, it's probably because it's from long ago. I fixed a couple things recently though._

_Please review; I love to hear your guys' input._

_Thanks for reading!_

_~Cascading Rainbows_


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